


the leaves

by hellchoirs



Series: why storms are named after people [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drugged Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24580381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellchoirs/pseuds/hellchoirs
Summary: Klaus didn't mind the handcuffs so much. It was a bit of fun, and purely harmless, after all.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Original Male Character(s)
Series: why storms are named after people [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760482
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	the leaves

**Author's Note:**

> For the bad things happen prompt: chained to a bed.  
> Warnings in the end notes.  
> This is part of a series! 'why storms are named after people'. I highly suggest reading that in order before reading this!

“I want to try something new,” murmured Robert, lips ghosting over his. Klaus whined, arching his back to press against his chest. His skin felt electric, muscles trembling, mind ablaze with his high, and Robert’s hands felt like fire as they ran down his chest and spread apart to rest either side of his waist.

“Huh?” He said intelligently, cracking his eyes open to look at him. A further glance around the room proved they were, in fact, alone– of course they were, Ben never liked to watch them when they were intimate, but Ben was also being weird, had been for months now.

Robert kissed down his chest, teeth grazing his skin as he occasionally paused to suck and bite a dark mark into previously unmarked skin. He pulled himself away from Klaus, much to his displeasure, leaving him hot and flushed and alone on the bed as he fetched something from one of the bedside tables. His initial thought was that he would return with drugs. Not that Klaus would ever say no to them, but he was also soaring through space already and getting much higher would render him mindless, and he didn’t enjoy not being able to remember these moments.

Robert came back onto the bed, slotting himself once more between his legs so that he could lean over him and kiss him. Klaus wrapped one arm around his neck, eagerly reciprocating the action until, once more, Robert pulled away. He ran his hands down his shoulders, down his arms, down to his hands, interlocking their fingers and pushing Klaus’ hands up the bed and over his head. One of his hands disappeared and he came back down to kiss Klaus. As he did so, Klaus felt something cold snap around one of his wrists, tugging it to the side. Turning his head away from Robert, he saw a handcuff around his wrist, the other side of it snapping around one of the wooden bedposts.

Robert did the same with his other wrist, shackling it to the other bedpost, and then he sat back on Klaus’ hips and grinned, nodding his head. “Try ‘em,” he said. “Police issued cuffs. Got them from a friend.” He ran a thumb along the chain on his neck, lifting it up to show the key dangling from it. “Won’t get out without this.”

Klaus tugged at the bonds, rolling his wrists in them. They dug into his skin as he did so and didn’t give at all, nor were they loose enough that he could slip his hand out of them. The bed post was thin where they were attached but grew thicker at the bottom and had a large ball at the top so that he couldn’t slip the cuffs over them. He was indeed stuck, with no way to get out other than the key around Robert’s neck.

It was by far not the weirdest or kinkiest thing they had done, to his knowledge, so Klaus hummed happily and arched his back, grinning at Robert who returned the expression.

The cuffs seemed to be something he liked. They made a regular reappearance, remained all the time on the bed posts, easy and quick for Robert to slide Klaus’ wrists into within a couple of seconds, whilst the key remained around his neck. Klaus didn’t mind it so much, but Ben seemed to have a problem when the use of the cuffs bled out from their bedroom, sort of.

It was a kink, Klaus thought. Innocent and harmless and hot, in his opinion, even if Robert liked to put him in the cuffs and then leave the house for a while. The thrill of being helpless, of never knowing when exactly Robert would be back, that he could leave him there for hours; it made Klaus squirm in a good way. And plus, the look on Robert’s face when he did finally come back to see Klaus still there was always worth it.

Ben did not think so.

“He might as well put a fucking collar on you, Klaus,” Ben had said once whilst Robert was out and Klaus was still cuffed to the bed. Klaus squirmed on the bed, shimmying until he was sitting upright and cross-legged.

“Calm down, bro,” drawled Klaus, rolling his eyes and slumping forwards a little. “It’s all a bit of fun.”

“You can’t even go to the bathroom.”

“Good thing I don’t need to, then,” Klaus shrugs, slumping back against the headboard, hands hanging limply in the cuffs. “God, I don’t fucking get you.”

Ben whirled on him, giving him an incredulous expression. “What?”

Klaus spread his fingers out, cuffs jingling. “You were all for me staying with him ages ago. You loved him more than I did at the start-“

“Things changed,” Ben said, tone sounding desperate. “He was nice at the start-“

“He still is-“

“No, he’s not!” Ben blurted. “He treats you like a dog!”

“Dogs don’t sleep on beds,” said Klaus, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck, he probably treats dogs better than you, I’ve not seen him throw a dog around and drug it.”

“You say that as if I’d never done drugs before him,” Klaus scoffed. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? Compared to the other people I’ve dated.”

“And why didn’t I like them either? Because they hurt you and drugged you and chained you up, too, and because they touched you when you were unconscious or too high to remember your own name- just like he has.”

Klaus bristled, glaring at Ben. “Don’t say that,” he snapped, although it was not the first time Ben had said it. “He’s not _raped_ me, don’t say that. It’s not rape when he’s my boyfriend and I would have said yes.”

“It is,” said Ben. “Because you didn’t. It doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend. If it was anyone else you wouldn’t let them treat you like this and you know it.”

“Fuck off,” Klaus said. Ben glared at him and did not move, but he stayed quiet and so did Klaus, until Robert came back. Klaus heard him putting groceries away and he perked up; sliding down on the bed so he was on his back with his hands held up over his head, blankets kicked away from his naked body. Finally, finally, Robert came into the room.

He paused in the doorway as he always did, taking in the sight of Klaus as if he was beautiful, laid out like he was for him, and then he came forwards, sliding between Klaus’ legs so he could reach forwards and stroke his cheek. Klaus eagerly turned his head into the soft touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“I love seeing you like this,” murmured Robert, and Klaus hummed, turning to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “So good for me, Klaus. So perfect.”

If Robert was as bad as Ben said he was, then why did he say such nice things? Ben didn’t make any sense.

Ben was still in the room, glaring at Robert, so Klaus arched his back slightly, coaxing him closer and bringing him into a kiss. Robert wrapped his arms around him and Klaus hid his face in the crook of his neck and then looked up, catching Ben’s gaze.

“Do you love me?” He asked, voice hushed, and Robert ran his hands through his hair, steadily growing out as time passed.

“Of course I do,” Robert murmured, kissing his neck. “I love you so much, Klaus.”

Klaus gave a smug look at Ben, who wore a dark expression, gaze shifting from Robert to Klaus. He shook his head slowly and walked out of the room, disappearing in the doorway.

Good, Klaus thought. He didn’t need Ben trying to ruin this for him.

The cuffs weren’t always on, of course. Just every so often. When they felt like it, when they were in the mood for it; when Robert began to take photos of him, too.

Unsurprisingly, Ben did not like that.

“He could be doing anything with those photos.”

“Said as if I wasn’t a prostitute on a street corner before him,” Klaus scoffed.

Klaus did not mind the photos. Robert liked looking at him; that much was apparent. He liked looking at him when he was all flushed out and squirming on the bed, helpless and desperate and high. He liked the idea that Robert thought he was pretty like that, pretty enough to want to capture the moment forever in a photograph.

And, well, if he was sharing the photos with others, Klaus took it as a compliment. It wasn’t as if other people he had dated or slept with hadn’t likely taken pictures and videos of their own, and only god knew what they did with them. In the end, they were just photos.

“He does it when you’re out of it, too,” Ben told him. “When you shoot up and fall asleep, or when you dissociate, or just when you pass out or have no idea what’s going on. He takes photos of you like that, too.”

“That’s fine,” said Klaus, glaring at him. “I don’t care. He’s allowed to.”

“You don’t even know that he’s doing it to you,” Ben said.

“I know now; and it’s fine. It’s not as if he’s hurting me.”

“He does that too.”

“Shut up,” Klaus hissed.

Ben was very adamant that Robert did a lot of things without his consent. He did not agree with Klaus when Klaus said being in a relationship already gave him that consent. The chances of Klaus not saying yes anyway were very slim.

“Still there,” Ben had said.

The cuffs were fine, the photos were fine, blanket consent and all without it needing to be said. It was just a bit… odd, the first time when Robert came back from leaving him in the cuffs, high enough that the hours passed by in a few seconds, with someone else with him.

Klaus trusted Robert, though, and Robert seemed perfectly fine with the man here.

He came up to the side of the bed rather than going over him like usual, but like usual his hands roamed all over him, stoking the fire beneath his skin. Klaus whined into his mouth when he came down and kissed him, arched his body into his hands for more, and let out a gasp when his hand drifted down between his legs, stroking him until he was hard.

When Robert moved away, Klaus couldn’t help but whine. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, stroked his cheek. “Are you going to be good for me?” He asked, and Klaus nodded furiously. Robert grinned, stood up and turned to the other man in the room, murmuring something Klaus didn’t catch and passing him a handful of something green.

Robert left the room, and Klaus stared after him in confusion, then at the man left in the room.

“Klaus,” said Ben, suddenly there again. “Klaus, tell him no- call for Robert and tell him no.”

The words rang in his ears but otherwise didn’t process. He watched the man pull his shirt off, and then kicked off his pants, and he was over Klaus.

“What’re- what-“ he tried to ask, but the man’s hand went down between his legs and the feeling, coupled with his high, was intense enough to clear his mind. He was aware of hands over him, and everything was white-hot and electric and the cuffs bit into his wrists and then Robert was there again, kissing all over him again, and Klaus looked around himself in confusion, disoriented.

“Where’s- he-“

“Don’t worry about that, baby,” said Robert, kissing his neck, “it’s okay. You’re so good for me, I love you so much.”

Klaus didn’t quite understand what had just happened, or what still was happening, but he still preened at the compliment, happy to let Robert drag a wet cloth over his stomach and kiss his chest before he unlocked the cuffs around his wrists. He fell against him, and perhaps he really had been good, because Robert showered him in praise and loving touches.

They needed a little extra money. It was understandable, of course; drugs were expensive, and Robert bought him clothes and makeup and fed him, too, and Klaus wasn’t bringing in any money. There was only one logical option for Klaus as well to bring in some money, and Klaus was fine with it. It wasn’t as if he didn’t do the exact same thing out on the streets; now he simply had Robert to organise his clients for him.

Robert was fine with it, so therefore so was Klaus. He had the drugs to help make everything feel good anyway. (Unless the clients liked Klaus glossy-eyed and unresponsive, then the drugs helped make him feel nothing.)

Ben, still, did not understand.

“I’m not getting sober, so we need money. It’s just a job,” said Klaus, and Ben stared at him with that same half-feral, half-desperate look to his eyes.

“Your boyfriend bringing people home to fuck you isn’t a job, Klaus,” he said.

“It’s not like I’m going out and working in an office,” he snorted.

“Yeah, because he won’t let you leave the fucking house.”

“I don’t need or want to,” he defended, and if his hands weren’t stuck to the bedposts in their cuffs, he would have crossed his arms.

“You’ve gotten off this bed to piss twice in god knows how long. He’s got you living here on his bed as a god damn sex slave. Klaus, please, this isn’t right- you need to phone someone when you can, or try to get out. Diego- I know Diego’s number, he wouldn’t have changed it, we can call him-“

“I’m not leaving,” Klaus huffed, rolling his eyes.

Ben ran a hand down his face, sighing and looking distressed, and then he came close to perch on the edge of the bed. “I know you think he loves you, Klaus, and I know he’s nice sometimes, but this isn’t- this isn’t right. This isn’t love.”

Klaus stared tensely at his brother, his shoulders hunched, and Ben opened his mouth to say something when the front door came back, announcing Robert’s entrance. Ben pressed his lips together, looking defeated, and Klaus simply waited for Robert to come get him.

It wasn’t bad. It worked well; it got them money, and with the money Klaus noticed the spike in treats Robert got him; more clothes, more makeup, more costly drugs. He spent most days now in a half-asleep daze, or just fully asleep, lulled by the blissful high of heroin. Sometimes he woke up, or came back to himself, and he would be on the bed, either alone or with someone else, curled up or cuffed into place, or he might wake up on the couch, or the bath. He didn’t worry much about whatever happened when he wasn’t with it; he found he couldn’t bring himself to worry much.

Unless, of course, the high turned south and he had a bad trip. It wasn’t often he had them, but each experience was terrifying enough. Worse so when he was drifting in and out of consciousness, and his body hurt, and there was someone he didn’t know on him, and he couldn’t move and he didn’t know where he was and he couldn’t breathe.

He thrashed as much as he could, but the other person simply held his legs down, and his hands were stuck elsewhere, wrists aching. He bucked and looked around wildly, trying to figure out his surroundings but his mind kept slipping away too quickly for him to do so. He spluttered for air, gasped, begged for it, and when the person with him got annoyed at him rather than helping him and chose instead to punch him, Klaus started yelling- screaming, really. There was a ghost, trying to calm him down, but then there was a hand on his throat, and Klaus sobbed, disoriented and confused and afraid, until suddenly the person was gone, and there was a familiar face- Robert, he recognised, and through his sobs he begged him for help.

He felt like he was going to die, and maybe he was. Robert frowned at him, said something he couldn’t understand, and Klaus saw someone else leave the room, looking angry. Klaus’ hands fell down from over his head and he pushed them against his skull, cradling his head and curling in on himself.

Robert held him, and Klaus keened, trembling. “I don’t know- where am I? Where am I? I can’t- I can’t breathe, I don’t-“

“Shhh,” cooed Robert, stroking his back. “You’re home, you’re fine, you can breathe perfectly fine, Klaus, you’re just being dramatic.”

Klaus shook his head furiously, sobbing. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, please-“

“You’re fine,” the man insisted, and he kept holding him until the high began to recede and he could understand what was going on, what had happened, and the ghost turned into Ben, just worried for him.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus whispered, still trembling on the bed. “I didn’t-“

“It’s fine,” dismissed Robert, taking his hands and coaxing him onto his feet and then he wrapped an arm around his waist when his knees shook. “Just lost a client, is all.”

“ ‘m sorry,” Klaus uttered, cheeks burning. Robert guided him into the bathroom, made him sit on the toilet, and Klaus realised his wrists were bleeding from how hard he’d thrashed in the handcuffs on the bed.

“It’s fine,” repeated Robert. “Not your fault. We’ll give it a break for a while, hmm?”

“That’d be nice,” Klaus murmured, nodding his head.

Robert cleaned his wrists up gently, and then took him to bed without another word.

It was late, and Klaus curled up against Robert, seeking comfort from being close to him. In the light filtering in through the window, the handcuffs on the bed glinted at him.

Two days later, Klaus woke up with his hands in the cuffs and an unfamiliar man standing over him. The cuffs bit into his still tender skin and Klaus closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: rape/non-con/dubious consent, prostitution, abusive relationships.
> 
> There are two more prompts for this series. The next one will be the same as the ones so far, and the last one will be a multi-chapter fic following the canon timeline of Reginald's death!


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